Harlequin
by The Imperfect Me
Summary: There comes a time when you eventually stop looking under the bed for monsters, because you realize that the real monsters are from within. For Sakura, she had known it since the time she gained a small sense of satisfaction from destroying ant hills and bird nests. It wasn't until she met Madara that the monster within her began to stir.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** There comes a time when you eventually stop looking under the bed for monsters, because you realize that the real monsters are from within. For Sakura, she had known it since the time she gained a small sense of satisfaction from destroying ant hills and bird nests. It wasn't until she met Madara that the monster within her began to stir. He was her Joker as she was his Harley Quinn.

**Pairing:** MadaSaku

**Rating:** Mature for violence and possibly future lemons

**Word Count:** 2,385

* * *

_**Harlequin**_

"_We stopped checking for monsters under our beds when we realized they were inside of us." _

—_Unknown_

**Chapter One**

There is only so much the human body can withstand before finally breaking, its spirit leaving only an empty corpse of a body with nonfunctional organs and parts. Uchiha Madara knew this very well, and it intrigued him as to finding that specific limit of the human body. But of course, every experiment requires a subject—a living human, which was why there was a muffled whimper in the center of the brightly lit room. And after every experiment, there is always repetition of the same experiment again, and again, and again.

His lips twitched up slowly in a mischievous smile as he ran a hand through his messy dark locks, maroon eyes flickering towards his subject before turning the stereo up on the wooden table. "Hush now," he held a finger up to his lips and slowly turned to the frightened man tied up against a wooden chair with dark stains and spots. The subject didn't dare move, dark eyes widening and stilled. The barbed wire that Madara had bound him with cut deeper into his skin each time he even let out a labored breath from his nostrils. "This is my favorite song."

Loud orchestral music blasted within the soundproof room as Madara walked towards his bound subject, his steps barely made a sound as Verdi: Requiem Dies Irae grew louder as each horn reached the peak of the crescendo. The man stiffened and bit back a scream, mouth gagged by a clean rag in contrast to his bloody, sweaty self. Madara's grin widened at the sight.

…

"Why did you do it?" a soft yet stern voice echoed in the room, short petal pink hair framed the psychiatrist's heart-shaped face.

Just like how the human body can withstand so much before falling apart, Haruno Sakura found the human mind much more interesting with how it reacted, responded and how it was always changing. She had been offered plenty of positions in the top hospitals in many cities and even countries after showing prowess in the medical field a year after earning her doctorate, however she never took them. Her main interest was in studying and learning more. After her learning of the human body was over, she had taken a quick switch over to psychology which in turn landed her a small temporary position working the top psychological hospital that housed the most criminally insane patients.

Her current patient slouched lazily on the cushioned couch, arms and hands free from restraint during his psychotherapy sessions. Sakura watched cautiously with a bored expression over her blank notebook. All that was written so far was the patient's name and physical description. The rest have yet to be filled out.

She attempted to take a different approach, "You know the human mind interests me." Foreign eyes finally looked at her direction, catching the glimpse of curious viridian eyes staring at him dead on. She continued, "Haven't you always wondered, 'why'? Why is the sky blue? Why do we yawn? Those are all _physical_ things. You can answer physical things, but you can't answer the metaphysical. So," she clicked her pen twice before setting it down on the small table next to her before giving her patient a sickly sweet smile, "I'll ask again… Why did you do it?"

…

The muffled screams grew louder over the decrescendo of the music as it ended. Sweat had mixed in with the subject's blood that flowed freely down every little deep cut that been made on his body. The barbed wire had cut even more deep into his wrists, torso and ankles that the earlier burning pain had began to numb itself.

Madara frowned, "You're _filthy_." His nose wrinkled as he turned to grab a now bloodied rag and a bottle of an unknown substance before turning back and grinning madly. "I'll help you clean up those cuts." The tortured man's eyes widened further if possible and shook his head quickly as he saw the bottle of lemon juice. The Uchiha frowned at his action, "You should be thankful I'm doing this for you. I'm just trying to be courteous…"

He poured a good amount of the citric acid onto the bloodied cloth before dabbing it gently at the man's open wounds only to hear the muffled screams increase in volume. The dabbing became rougher and eventually turned into malicious scrubbing until the skin around the wounds was rubbed clean off and raw. Madara gave a small chuckle and looked at the pathetic shaking man before him, "Simply _**filthy**_." He dumped the rest of the bottle of lemon juice onto the now soaked man, emitting a loud yell through the man's covered mouth as the burning liquid seeped into his wounds.

…

The session had been almost over and Sakura was beginning to lose hope that nothing would be revealed to her. It was only the first session with this particular man, but of all the patients she has had in the past, this was the most difficult. All she could do at the moment was take down notes of his behavior from his left foot silently tapping to his constant staring at a picture Sakura kept with her in any of her offices.

The picture consisted of her and her closest high school friends: Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke and their consistent homeroom teacher for all of their high school years, Hatake Kakashi. Even after high school and going their separate ways, they still made time to meet up at least once every month to catch up. The more she kept staring at the picture as well, the more she saw the similarities between Sasuke and her patient.

"Do you know him?" she asked curiously, pointing at her stoic friend in the picture with her pen.

Silence ensued and he finally looked away from the picture, thinking deeply before changing the subject, "The man that I killed," he said with no shame, looking up at Sakura again and grinned, "He was my friend."

Sakura chose not to write this fact down. She was afraid that if she broke eye contact with the insane prisoner in front of her, she would lose the progress she had with him now. Silently putting down her pen and clipboard, she switched her crossed legs and folded her hands together, "You were friends with the victim, so why did you do it?"

"I was bored."

…

Loud police sirens halted in the background as police shuffled themselves into the dark household, guns in hand as they silently knocked down every door to find the rooms practically empty with little to no furniture. It wasn't until they followed the strong stench of blood up into the attic where they found the victim and murderer.

"Drop the weapon and put your hands up."

Madara just grinned madly, maroon eyes scanning all six policemen that aimed guns their guns as he willingly dropped the bloodied and rusted knife. The clitter-clatter made some of the policemen jump. The Uchiha slowly put his bloodied hands up in the air and let out a cackle, "I guess you caught me red-handed."

At this, a white haired policeman quickly took the opportunity to slam the laughing murderer into the ground and quickly handcuffed him. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything said can and will be used against you in the court of law." Madara only chuckled at this, maroon eyes glancing up into the officer's single visible onyx eye, his other being covered with a dark eye-patch. He then turned his head from the ground to see his subject rubbed raw from the citrusy scrub he had done, the deep cuts still visible and apparent as well as the cleanly cut off toes and fingers that lay neatly on the blood soaked floor.

"Hatake-san," a dark haired and bushy browed man walked up to the two of them before announcing, "He's dead." Madara smirked at this, staring at the dead corpse that had bled to death from dismemberment.

…

The scritch-scratch of a ballpoint pen against thick paper could be heard as the seconds ticked away from Sakura's clock that lay stationary on the small table. She had began scribbling furious notes from only a little information that was given away by her patient. His tapping foot had stopped and his constant stares from the picture were now focused on the pink haired woman.

A small alarm went off, signaling that their session together was over for today, however Sakura held a hand up, "Hold on," she muttered and finished with her notes before locking eyes again, "One last question for now…" A spark of interest flickered in her green eyes, "Why did you let yourself get caught so easily?"

…

The large court room was filled with nervous spectators as they glanced every few seconds towards the obviously guilty man who sat next to his lawyer. They were relieved that he was handcuffed and had law officials at the corner of every room and every door and window in case something were to happen. The only person in the room, who didn't appear to be afraid or nervous other than the grinning madman Madara, was his lawyer Nagato Pein.

"You've really let yourself loose this time Madara-san," Pein narrowed his eyes, face scrunched up in disappointment before sighing and seating himself again. The two of them had been long time friends and was working together in an infamous criminal organization. It was known that Madara took a large role in the organization; however the public did not need to know that Pein took part as well. He needed to keep up an image, one that apparently Madara did not care for anymore. Madara only scoffed and shot his orange haired friend a look that said confirmed that he really did not care.

With a slam of the wooden mallet, the court was brought back to the judge's attention as he cleared his throat, "Uchiha Madara, you are hereby guilty of murder but will be deemed as mentally unstable and will be put in special facilities for the criminally insane for as long as necessary until medical professionals specify otherwise."

The entire legal process of transferring him over to a new area was quick and it did amuse Madara to an extent at how fearful others were of him. On the ride over, the driver had to request another personnel in order to keep watch over Madara from the windows the entire drive just to be sure he had not been doing anything he shouldn't be even though he was already put into a straight jacket.

He could have escaped rather easily, but there was no fun in that. He wanted a _challenge_. The only reason why Pein and the Akatsuki had not done anything to help him thus far is because he simply didn't request it.

The time he had spent in the Konoha City Asylum was roughly about only two months in which doctors and psychiatrists had kept transferring him to others out of sheer fear, or other complications. And now, Madara was stuck with a pink haired psychiatrist who was by far the most interesting thing he had encountered since his murder. Her actions were little, barely noticeable but he mentally noted everything from her crossing legs every four minutes to her always clicking her pen three times before use. Her tiny 'why' speech had secretly gotten him riled up inside, finding it harder to control himself from just enclosing his large hands around her tiny throat.

It wasn't that he wanted to harm her—he wanted to _experiment_. And from the looks of it, she wanted to experiment with him as well with trivial questions such as asking why he let himself get caught so easily. She knew of his capabilities and had no doubt he could easily harm and kill her in this soundproof office. Regardless, she attempted to ask again, "Madara-san—"

"I already told you didn't I?" he grinned, "I got bored."

Sakura raised an eyebrow and subconsciously clicked her tongue in disapproval at his response. She was about to click her pen to write down his repetition until he interrupted her by reaching over and snatching the pen. "Hey!" she glared at him.

Madara couldn't help but keep his amused grin plastered on his face at her green glare. It was obvious she was not afraid of him. He stared down and examined the pen closely and read out loud, "Ha-ru-no Sa-ku-ra," pronouncing and enunciating each syllable of her name as if to bother her. It had worked.

"_Dr._ Haruno Sakura," she huffed, crossing her arms and continued staring at her patient's actions. She was not afraid of the murderer, but she wasn't stupid enough to let her guard down.

"Sa-ku-ra," he repeated and looked up, maroon eyes flickered in interest. "Did you know if you rearranged the letters of your first name you get 'ka-ra-su'?"

"Karasu—crow?" Sakura rolled her eyes, "How morbidly creative. What about it?"

"A group of crows is called a murder."

Things were finally getting interesting.

* * *

Let me know what you guys think—feedback would be great. The only thing troubling me now is the relationship that will begin to develop between Madara and Sakura. Do you want it to be this abusive relationship like what the Joker and Harley had? Or something different? Let me know in the reviews!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary:** There comes a time when you eventually stop looking under the bed for monsters, because you realize that the real monsters are from within. For Sakura, she had known it since the time she gained a small sense of satisfaction from destroying ant hills and bird nests. It wasn't until she met Madara that the monster within her began to stir. He was her Joker as she was his Harley Quinn.

**Pairing:** MadaSaku

**Rating:** Mature for violence and possibly future lemons

**Word Count:** 2,864

_**Harlequin**_

"_One person's craziness is another person's reality."_

— _Tim Burton_

**Chapter Two**

For the past month in the prison-like asylum, Madara was beyond the definition of boredom. The food was plain, nothing special and the gossip and rumors around the vicinity was only mediocre from who slept with whom and that so-and-so had another break down. He was almost always confined in his one-man cell which wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be. The room itself wasn't too tiny, it had a round table at one corner opposite from his twin sized bed, a personal bathroom and even a barred up window that let in the sunlight in the late afternoon. He could often times catch a glimpse of the courtyard that had been transformed into a traditional Japanese tea garden where most of the more stable patients would roam around with dozens of nurses and psychiatrists around to keep them in check. More often than not, he would catch sight of his pink haired psychiatrist lounging around the small stream and eating her lunch during her breaks.

In fact, she was one of the main reasons why he had not called the Akatsuki's help for escape yet. He wasn't _entirely_ bored. What kept him on edge were his weekly therapy sessions with this pink haired sprite. The weekly sessions soon became almost daily upon his request of one of the assistants after his awful lie of wanting to open up his secrets to someone. Of course the poor assistant fell for it and filled out a report for Sakura to begin seeing him daily for the duration of two hours. This in turn, landed him in a fairly irritated Sakura's office right at this moment.

Madara would not deny the fact that he liked her office more than his room due to the soft pastel colors the walls and ceiling held that complimented her equally pastel pink hair. The only striking contrast to all of the soft colors was her steely seafoam eyes. From the times he had made eye contact with hers, he knew that she was anything but soft and gentle. This was what interested him the most and what kept him on the edge. He wanted to _break_ her and see her crumble under his hands, but he knew as soon as he did, she would have won this game they subconsciously played—so, he didn't even dare touch her.

There was the soothing familiar sound of her pen scribbling lightly against paper until her voice pierced through the otherwise silence, "Tell me, Madara, what was your childhood like?"

Madara frowned slightly at this and resisted a sigh, placing his knitted hands under his chin and responded with, "Boring."

She didn't know whether or not he was answering her question, or that he was announcing boldly that this session was boring, or that she was boring. It was possibly and most likely the latter two. She continued her notes and re-crossed her legs, her dark pencil skirt shifted slightly under. From what Sakura had heard and known about of the infamous Uchiha household name, was that they carried large pockets of money—they were filthy rich from their well-known technology company. She remembered that Sasuke held a fairly high position in the company, right below his brother's and his father's. She had been around the Uchiha family more than enough times to realize that they accepted nothing but of high quality. She had met a large majority of the snobby family, but had heard nothing of Madara. Perhaps he was distant on the family tree? Though, his physical appearance and presence reeked nothing but royalty.

"What was _your_ childhood like?"

Seafoam eyes looked up from her clipboard in surprise at his abrupt question that interrupted her thoughts. "_My_ childhood?" she nearly laughed, "That is not any of your concern."

…

The small tuft of pink hair stood up as a younger Sakura stared at the emptying swing sets. Children from the park were being ushered by their parents to head home and eat a hearty warm dinner, but Sakura didn't want to go home just yet. The sun was slowly beginning to touch the horizon and when a large majority of the children had dispersed, the park was nearly empty minus her parents that were huddled up at the park bench, reading or working. Time wasn't an issue for them. Nor was it for Sakura.

Earlier, Sakura had seen a group of young boys play with slingshots and had shot pebbles at branches of trees to prove something and had eventually shot down a bird from its nest with a sharp pebble. The impact had been strong enough to knock it out of the tree and shock the group of boys to run off, some with tears in their innocent eyes. Curiosity had sparked to life in her eyes when she ventured off towards the general area and saw the near dying bird flat on its back, feathers and wings sprawled out as it took labored breaths.

Looked nearby, Sakura saw that its nest had been knocked down by the sharp pebbles as well. She took her expressionless eyes off the bird in order to find the nest and lifted it to find broken eggs but one. It was a pretty shade of pale blue and she knew from that moment on soft shades were what calmed her. Picking it up gently, she walked back towards the near dying bird and knelt down. "Poor dirty birdy," she cradled the egg close to her as she lifted the creature from the tips of one of its wings, giggling as it struggled to break free, the other wing flapping violently.

"You have pretty feathers," Sakura dropped the tortured animal and continued to stroke its feathered wings before violently plucking a few off. Seeing no response from the near dying bird, she frowned, "Are you hungry?" An idea sprout from her head as she giggled, looking at the egg settled in her hand and carefully cracked it open, pouring its liquid insides down into the bird's open beak. She grinned, watching as the bird slowly struggled.

"Sakura-chan?" it was her mother's voice from a distance, "It's getting dark, and about time we head back home for dinner. Let's head back right now."

She got up quickly, brushing her hands off on her dirt covered dress as she pocketed the feathers she plucked and shouted back, "Okay!" Looking back, she grinned at the now dead bird, "I had fun playing with you birdy. Maybe next time we can have more fun!"

The next time she visited the same park, she discovered with expressionless eyes a decaying bloodied carcass of the bird she had left.

…

The psychiatrist raised an eyebrow towards the dark haired man at his behavior. What intrigued her most were not his deep red eyes or his long mane of hair, but rather his attitude and behavior. It was child-like and almost innocently so. After she had disregarded his further questions of her childhood Madara had pouted like a child at this and chose to sulk, displeased that he had to answer her questions and yet she was free from restraint of his own questions. Something about legality and confidentiality issues that confused the madman.

"Did you go to parks as a child?" Sakura asked him, interrupting his train of thought once again. She noticed he was beginning to look bored again.

"What do you think Haruno-san?" Madara rolled his eyes to her direction, "I'm an Uchiha. You clearly have a friend that is one as well." He had implied that she of all people should know what their childhood was like. Rules and restrictions secured with more duties and responsibilities was the Uchiha way—and for Madara, it bored him, the routinely things.

Sakura caught into the implication and huffed, "Well, if you were to answer my question, you would've elaborated as to why you broke away from your average Uchiha childhood." She continued, "All Uchihas are treated as if born from royalty from the day that they are born, to past the days that they have died. _You_ obviously are not royalty—or at least you strayed from such a lifestyle. Was it the restraint, the rules or the duties? Or perhaps it was the people?"

Madara was unaware that he had been gritting his teeth and scowling until he finally exhaled, allowing himself to chuckle it off. She was _provoking_ him. She knew exactly which words to use in order to poke and prod at his mentality and this lured him to her if she knew or not. She was like a siren that spoke provoking words. He decided he would enter her realm of words and knowledge and play her dangerous mind games, "Let's strike a deal."

Seafoam eyes finally lit up at his proposition, "A deal?"

He nodded, "A deal. We'll have a Q&A sort of thing. You ask a question, and I'll answer; then I ask and you answer."

Sakura couldn't help but smirk at this, he was practically begging her that he be invited to play and be part of her game. "There needs to be rules established." She caught his frown at this statement. She was smarter than that and knew a game of no rules could elicit cheating; and she always played by the rules—her own rules. "There will be no repeated questions from either person. One cannot repeat the same answer over again. There is no 'passing' to a question. All questions must be answered honestly."

"Is that it?" Madara raised an eyebrow. They were simple enough. She was practically telling him to be honest, but stating it that way so boldly and simply would allow him room to cheat. The she had just stated it so elaborately held no room for him cheat. Realization began to set in that she was taking this game seriously, just as he would as well. He saw her give a confirmed nod at his question and he grinned, "Then, let the games begin."

"Then here's my first question," she smirked, her clipboard and pen resting on the table next to her, completely forgotten as she folded her hands together neatly, "Can ants swim?"

…

Recess was over at the Konoha Academy as the bell signaled the children to rush back into their classrooms. Their tables were set in groups of three in which consisted of Sakura, Naruto and Sasuke. Sakura's small hands tugged at the ends of her shoulder length hair to get the knots and small wooden tanbark pieces out of her hair. Karin had pushed her off of the monkey bars earlier trying to chase after the young Uchiha. Emerald eyes glared over at the redhead as she sat down in her tiny desk, deciding she'll plan something to get back at Karin during lunch.

"Listen up class!" It was Iruka, the teacher and owner of the colorful classroom. With his announcement, everyone was intently listening to the new lecture he gave except Naruto, Shikamaru and Kiba who were asleep over their desks. Iruka didn't seem to care too much though, knowing he would just lecture the poor boys later and hold them back from lunch a few minutes.

Sakura, however, was taking notes in a small notebook, occasionally doodling in the margins here and there, and began drawing the tiny bird she played with a couple days ago at the park. She remembered how the bird drowned in its own unborn young, and looked up at the board to see Iruka's drawing of an ant hill, describing the functions of the ant colony. She raised an eyebrow and quickly shot her hand up. "Umino-sensei," she called out.

Iruka abruptly stopped the lesson and gave a small smile towards the pastel haired girl, "Question, Sakura-chan?" He remembered her clearly of being very brilliant and bright for her age, playful as well but also experienced firsthand that her curiosity got the best of other people sometimes. There had been a time when her questions during a quick five minute break in the class where she kept questioning him about the most trivial things.

"Can ants swim, Umino-sensei?"

…

The question definitely shocked Madara and it caused him to bellow out in laughter, knowing the room was soundproof. The maroon eyed man was prepared for any question she was going to ask him, but not something so trivial and what appeared to be irrelevant to the entire situation. Just what exactly was she trying to achieve? He decided to amuse her and answer, "I'm not too sure myself Sakura-san."

"_Haruno-san_," she corrected him and flashed him an innocent smile, one that Madara wanted to so desperately wipe off. She had not won this game and he was going to make sure she did not as well. "That isn't so much of an answer rather than a statement. If you don't know, take an educated guess." She began to ask again, "Can ants swim, Madara-san?"

…

Sakura stepped into the backyard of her home, hearing her mother's soft hums as she began to cook dinner while her father was rustling the newspapers he read in the afternoons rather than in the mornings. Her small sandals tacked against the cement steps as she stepped down silently onto the earthy mound and began walking towards the corner of the yard, a cup full of water she had grabbed from the kitchen in one hand and a plastic shovel in the other. Earlier she had found a small dirt hill and disregarded it as one of her mother's plants until she noticed ants crawling to and fro, up and down the hill. It wasn't until today that she decided to step in and disturb the working peace of the small creatures.

Bending down quickly, she grinned while placing the cup of water down at her side, plastic shovel already digging into the ant hill and tossed it aside as she saw black ants scurry in a panicked frenzy all over the place. Some had crawled up on her sandals, but she ignored it. Finally dropping the shovel after a few minutes of digging, she had found her target: the ant queen.

It begun crawling lazily around as its workers crawled all over the place of their destroyed home. Sakura flashed an excited grin, "Hello Mrs. Queen Ant, I found you. So, how about we play?" She quickly took the cup of water and mercilessly began pouring the liquid into the small pit of crawling black. Almost all of them had floated up to the top. "Do you know how to swim Mrs. Queen Ant?" Studying them closely her emerald eyes began to spark at the larger ant floating atop what seemed to be a pile of dead ants.

…

Madara pursed at her curt question and sighed, "I'll assume that they drown and die." Of course, he had never heard of an ant that swims.

At this, Sakura chuckled, causing him to raise an eyebrow in amusement at her response, "You're only partially correct. You see, some survive and some don't. It's a matter of superiority and strength. If you're strong then you survive with the weight of the weak underneath you. If you're weak, however, then you drown with the weight of the strong atop your shoulders and back." He had caught into the implication and the theme of her previous question. Of course, even the weak such as ants have the small chance of survival. It only depended on whichever one was stronger or weaker.

"Then tell me Sakura," he had dropped all formality at this point of figuring out her game and smirked, maroon eyes connected with steely seafoam, "Are you the strong or the weak?"

* * *

I hope this chapter flowed well because I kept editing it and revising bits of it to make sure it wasn't too rushed, but I still feel like it's a bit rushed. What did you guys think of the flow? Too fast? Or maybe too slow? Any suggestions/opinions/criticism is welcome! You should have seen my face when I saw the amount of reviews. Thanks so much for the support so far and I hope you and many more stick around as this story progresses.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary:** There comes a time when you eventually stop looking under the bed for monsters, because you realize that the real monsters are from within. For Sakura, she had known it since the time she gained a small sense of satisfaction from destroying ant hills and bird nests. It wasn't until she met Madara that the monster within her began to stir. He was her Joker as she was his Harley Quinn.

**Pairing:** MadaSaku

**Rating:** Mature for violence and possibly future lemons

**Word Count: **2,796

_**Harlequin**_

"_Dementia; damnant quodnon intelligunt / Madness; they condemn what they do not understand." _

— _Anonymous_

**Chapter 3**

The weekly sessions with the shaggy haired madman that had turned into daily sessions were becoming tolerable for Sakura. The little game that they shared were not at all daily—that would have been too tiresome—but they were at random times throughout the week. Many people who saw them interact outside of her office when she would welcome and release would have thought of it was a one-sided attraction mainly from Madara's end. He was not afraid to ridicule himself like the one time he had asked for her number when Sakura bid him farewell and sent him off with nurses to be taken back. Of course, she would always ignore his comments, questions and flirtation outside of her office.

On the inside, it was much different. The atmosphere was often thick with intimate questions and responses. It was almost like an intimate war zone of questionings and answers being catapulted back and forth cleverly. So far, no one had emerged victorious nor had neither of them lost. She would admit, some of his thought-provoking questions would rile her up for the entirety of the day after their sessions to where she would ask those very same questions to her close friends on her rare days off.

"Aren't you going to eat Forehead?"

"I already ate before I got off work, Pig." Sakura hummed, staring at a small gathering of seemingly civilized children at the park who were arguing who had their turn next onto the swings. Today was one of the rare days she got off of work early and for once, she was thankful for the break. She didn't realize how much work had consumed her until she stepped out of the psychiatric ward and into actual public places filled with _sane_ people, such as her friend next to her.

"Suit yourself," Ino shrugged, pale blue eyes glimmering as she bit into her avocado sandwich. "So what's next on your list?" she spoke, mouth full of food, but had the decency to cover her mouth.

"Excuse me?" viridian eyes flickered back into focus and locked eyes with baby blue. The children had settled the swing debate over a game of rock-papers-scissors. How civil.

"You already have so many certifications for so many job positions. You have a ridiculous amount of majors and minors for someone your age, and now you've started something new again—psychology was it?" Ino swallowed, wiping her mouth. "What's next on your list after psychology?"

The thought perturbed Sakura as unsettling. She always had feelings of unease after letting go yet another subject after completing all that she had to know of the topic. However, her thirst and desire for knowledge was too great to hold her back. "I think this might be the one I'll be sticking with," Sakura grinned.

She received a flat look from her friend. "Bullshit," Ino muttered, "You said that after med school and having a successful year or so working in the top hospitals. Then you just dropped it, like all your other jobs—you finished vet school, law school—hell you took a fucking _philosophy_ class, Forehead."

"Philosophy is interesting," Sakura defended.

"What the hell do you do with a philosophy major anyways? It's useless in this time and age," Ino snorted, taking a large chomp into her sandwich.

"I had fun learning it though," pink eyebrows rose up, "Out of everyone, I would have thought you would understood me best."

"I do," Ino sighed, her shoulders sagging. "I just don't want you to become so overloaded with work. It seems like each job you have makes you drift more and more away from us, Sakura. I'm just worried."

"Don't be," Sakura gave one of her reassuring smiles. They had this same conversation several times. She knew what to say and how to avoid further discussion. "I still call you, text you and email you, right Pig? We have our monthly meetings anyway. I still meet up with Naruto, Sasuke-kun and Kakashi every month as well. I know my limits more than you know."

The scheduled beep from Ino's sleek silver phone interrupted before Ino could retaliate. It meant their short meeting time was over. The blonde haired woman was just as busy as Sakura, and just like the pink haired girl, she also made room in her schedule to be with her childhood friend. Through pursed lips, Ino muttered after shutting off her scheduled reminder, "Promise me you will call more often… I shouldn't have to worry over you like this."

"Then don't," Sakura grinned, waving at Ino, signaling their dismissal and parting of separate directions. This scene was familiar to Sakura. It always happened. They would grab lunch together during their rare days off, have light nonsensical chatter over their lives which eventually led to Ino's always complicated love-life, and then it would end with an enjambment of one-sided worry and concern. It did not bother Sakura as much as it should have. How very sane indeed.

…

Everything about her intrigued him just as much as Sakura was interested in Madara, though she may not show it like he had several times. It was obvious that the older shaggy haired Uchiha held a growing desire for the pastel haired psychiatrist. Everything about her seemed so _imperfect_ and _bothersome_ that made his mind jerk and twist in different science-fiction angles and degrees and yet, there were undeniably _perfect _features about her that drove him over the edge. The way how only one of her delicate eyebrows rose slightly higher than the other, the strand of hair that always seemed to stick out of her normally perfectly combed hair, her slightly crooked pearly white smile and her pale slender fingers that always had blue or black ink coating the sides of her hands from writing all day.

She was an enigma, a puzzle he wanted to solve and present to the world.

Madara smirked, staring up at the familiar egg shell white ceiling of her office. He had broken out of his tiny room, unbound himself from the straight jacket they often put him in and walked right into Sakura's unlocked office. He had heard her leave for an early lunch break a half an hour ago, and was anticipating this unexpected visit to catch her off guard and surprise her. Unfortunately, he was the only one inside. He may as well take the opportunity to glance around.

The pictures on her desk became familiar to him—especially the one with three other people. Hatake Kakashi, the officer that arrested him months ago, was in leaning slightly over a younger version of Sakura, both of his large hands placed on a blonde haired boy who was a striking image of Minato, and then the other hand was placed on his stoic younger cousin, Sasuke. He raised an eyebrow and glanced back down at the younger version of Sakura. There were no bags under her bright emerald eyes, her pink locks much longer than they were now and her skin sun-kissed. There were no imperfections in this picture other than the men surrounding her.

Quickly flipping the picture down onto her desk so he no longer grew distracted, he swiftly maneuvered to behind her desk to discover the meticulous neatness bestowed before him. Papers were stacked and labeled neatly next to each other opposite of the computer screen, colorful sticky notes placed next to stacks of pencils and pens organized in a tiny container and her small calendar off to the corner where it was left untouched. The temptation to mess it all up made Madara grin evilly, but will power and maturity took over. Instead, he decided to only tilt a couple of the papers, misplace a few of her favorite pens and tear out two random months off of the calendar—just to see if she would notice.

"What's this?" he grinned devilishly, picking up a tiny journal that he often saw her recording in. Opening up, he began to read out loud to himself the contents, "Let's see… 'Dark, long hair with maroon eyes. Often stares at once space during sessions. Not willing to relay more information than he has already. Very predictable—' Excuse me?" Madara glared down at the page. Was he _that_ predictable? Flipping through the journals and skipping the ones that were not about him, his eyes landed on the most recently updated page. Maroon eyes flickered in delight that she had recorded all of his questions that he had managed to ask her as of yet and even bothered to record every detail of his behavior and response.

The scribbled mess on the more recent pages was a vast contradiction to her much more neat and outlined notes from before. Just like herself, everything contradicted. The less she actually thought, the more she seemed disorganized and messy. What a large contradiction to what her life must be.

Glancing up quickly at the time, he muttered to himself that he was beginning to overstay his welcome. He was hoping to catch her before the nurses began to check on the patients as they did every three hours of the day. Placing her journal back in its proper place, he left the room that seemed untouched at first glance.

…

"You entered my office recently." She stated, looking bored as she always did. The two of them were in their normal sessions with her sitting in the cushioned rolling chair across from Madara who began making himself at home by putting his feet up on the low glass table that separated the two. When Sakura arrived back, the first thing she noticed was the unnatural mess and disarray of her desk. It was normally clean and tidy however everything was at an angle and messed up. Strangely, she found pleasure reorganizing everything and replacing the god awful cat calendar that Naruto had given her.

White teeth showed, "And I see you have rearranged everything." Inside, Madara was silently raging at her quiet and unaffected demeanor. Was he really that predictable as she says?

"How was your day?" Sakura asked, not looking up as she titled her journal with the date and usual details regarding Madara's unchanged physical appearance and predictable behavior.

"How was _your_ day, darling?"

The scritch scratch of the pen halted and pink eyebrows raised in the unsymmetrical way that made Madara's spine tingle. Was that how he was going to play at it for the day? "Mimicry is the lowest form of admiration and flattery, but I do appreciate your poor attempt at wooing me."

He could tell she was not up for playing their usual games. "Then let me ask you a real question."

"Madara-san," Sakura sighed, "I already said—"

"Why do you strive to achieve perfection?"

Silence permeated the atmosphere. He looked up to see Sakura in deep thought, actually thinking about his question for a second. For a few minutes, he may have felt as if he actually won this game of theirs. He finally asked a question worthy enough of stumping her.

"Perfection is not attainable," Sakura answered, "But if we chase perfection, we can achieve excellence." There was that glimmer hidden behind her tea green eyes that eventually faded out. She was being mentally worn out after a scolding from her friend Ino recently. The conversations they held always ended the same, however this time it was different. Sakura just didn't have the time and patience to deal with Ino as often as the blonde haired woman would have liked. In no way was she in a mood for dealing with Madara, but protocols and rules must be followed.

Madara continued eager to light that fire in her eyes once more, to see her growth and hunger for digging into the human psyche. "So then you aim to achieve excellence?"

"Uchiha-san," Sakura glared at the man, her patience was running thin. If he was aiming to annoy her then he was crossing over way passed the boundary line reaching far into her frustration. "I am warning you to _not_ test me today; maybe some other day, but _not_ today."

"Why so serious, Sakura-chan?" Madara's smile began to grow into almost a maniacal one. She was so tempted into pushing the tiny emergency button under her desk to alert security, but her hubris and pride would not allow her to. At this point, she would have given up in this game of theirs and have him sent off, but with him? Never. She would not allow him the satisfaction of winning. He continued, "I thought you loved these games, Sa-ku-ra."

"Not today," she retaliated. "Now sit back down before I call in security."

"Such a bluff," Madara snickered, having the courage to glide his way closer towards Sakura who began to sit stiffly. "You should know that I wouldn't buy it. So why even try to begin with? Didn't you say so yourself Dr. Haruno? That I'm so _predictable_?" he leaned over and whispered into her ear.

So he found her observation journal. A tiny smirk pulled at Sakura's lips—No. She cannot fall into his little play. She understood that he was purposefully provoking her with this close intimacy. As he had said, she believed he was predictable just like all human beings she had come to meet. "It is because you are so predictable that I refuse to play this game with you today." She waved him away, creating a small distance between him and her as she stuck her nose back into her journal, scribbling down more into her journal.

"Am I that predictable?" he asked again, this time with a seriousness façade that made Sakura almost want to laugh.

"You speak your mind. It's obvious and you become predictable after the first few sessions," she explained to him. "You steer away from questions that make you uncomfortable with ambiguous answers followed by similar questions aimed towards me to hopefully drive off the topic about yourself. You hate talking about yourself as surprising as it is for someone as 'high and mighty' as you appear to be. You're like a house cat that claims he is a lion."

Madara could only stare blankly at her for what seemed like the slowest minute anyone could ever experience. Every sentence she spoke, words following after each other made that spark in her being ignite even further to where all he could see was a blaze in viridian green. Her features seemed more prominent and the imperfections were more vivid than before. It irked him—everything about her did. Her short pastel hair, that strand that never seemed to stay down, the now porcelain complexion and ink smeared hands bothered him, but what drove him over the edge was that blazing fire in her eyes.

"So," Sakura muttered, looking back up at him with the tiniest of smirks gracing her lips, "if that is an acceptable explanation for you then I believe your time is up."

She thought he would have gotten up and left, or that he would have asked another question or replied with a witty remark like he always predictably did, but instead he was doing something _absurd_. Surprisingly soft skin grazed against hers as he captured her lips with his.

"Was that predictable, Sa-ku-ra-chan?"

* * *

I hope I'm not rushing things… I was so caught up with updating my other fanfiction that I completely lost touch with this one until I decided to reread the first two chapters (the only two chapters). I'm loving the support for this, and I hope that this chapter has satisfied many of you. The suspense and tension will be back in the next one, I promise you! As you can see, Sakura is beginning to mentally deteriorate and what better time to take advantage than now for Madara?

Reviews are loved and cherished!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary:** There comes a time when you eventually stop looking under the bed for monsters, because you realize that the real monsters are from within. For Sakura, she had known it since the time she gained a small sense of satisfaction from destroying ant hills and bird nests. It wasn't until she met Madara that the monster within her began to stir. He was her Joker as she was his Harley Quinn.

**Pairing:** MadaSaku

**Rating:** Mature for violence and possibly future lemons

**Word Count: **4,065

_**Harlequin**_

"_Oh, but we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."_

— _the Cat, __Alice in Wonderland__._

**Chapter 4**

It was just a small peck on the lips. Everything from there was just a blur afterwards from the nurses having to come into the office to take him away back to his jail-like room. They had not seen the affection of course, only decided to enter at the time Madara finally decided it was better that he stepped back to fully observe Sakura. To say she was shocked was an understatement. After the madman had left, she was still stiff as a board sitting in her seat, fingertips scraping against the clipboard that she didn't know she was clinging onto. Everything in her office seemed to drift in midair; even as she exited and entered her own apartment things seemed to be floating as she jettison from one space to another. Touching her lips, she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror to see an unfamiliar face. Emerald eyes were much more vivid, her pale complexion had a faint rosy tint and face structure seemed elongated due to her surprised expression.

To say that she would have predicted Madara's move would have been close to impossible. She never even presented the possibility in her mind. When it had happened, she swore her heart stopped and almost brushed it off as a ridiculous accident until he asked her an equally ridiculous question.

"_Was that predictable, Sa-ku-ra-chan?"_

She scoffed, lowering her bare body into a steaming bathtub. His unpredictable actions had completely messed up her schedule and day. She was used to having her days be predictable, it made her future easier. An easier present would then lead to an easier future. It was how she saw things and so far, it had worked out—up until that shaggy haired madman entered her life and began questioning unquestionable things and now physically surprising her. A kiss was not something that should bother her. She had kissed many men (and when she was drunk, women) before in the past. Why would have this one small_, insignificant_ peck irritate her so much? That was why. It was disgustingly innocent. It was ridiculously gentle, quick and _innocent_.

Perhaps it was just her imagination, and she was just imagining the kiss—no it had happened. The touch and feeling still lingered on her lips no matter how hard she scrubbed and wiped. The supposedly relaxing bath was having an opposite effect on her, it was beginning to stress her out rather than calm her nerves. She felt indifferent whenever he chose to have a staring contest with her, but now the sight of his maroon eyes made her feel sick. They reminded her of his oddly familiar light cinnamon aroma with a smell of aftershave. What was that? _Cinnamon?_

Viridian eyes snapped open as she grabbed the bottle of baths salts she was currently using. Of course. It just had to be cinnamon. Sakura sank lower into the tub, heaving out a sigh and tossed the bottle away from her. The sound of glass shattering startled her, forcing her to get out of her tub and walk over to observe in silence at the sight before her. Her silver hand mirror had fell off the edge of the sink next to the dented bath salts bottle and shattered into miniscule pieces onto the marbled floor. Her fragmented wet face and dripping hair reflected back at her.

Perhaps, it was better she took a break from work to clear her head and hopefully disregard the kiss as nothing more than a past memory. She began cleaning up the mess, still naked and wet with worries that slid off of her shoulders.

…

The white room's atmosphere seemed to penetrate Madara's very being as questions and voices broke through into his thoughts. She smelled like peaches. Not cherry blossoms—peaches and mangoes. Her cropped hair bristled against his cheek when he landed his lips on her back in the office. And her lips, they were incredibly soft, just like her skin, but were a little dry possibly from the lack of hydration. After the unpredictable lip-to-lip contact, he pulled back and the first feature he noticed other than her flushed complexion, slightly parted lips in shock, were those haunting seafoam eyes. There was no spark, but instead a blaze behind the emerald green pairs. The spearmint breath that escaped her slightly ajar lips danced on his face.

_"Was that predictable, Sa-ku-ra-chan?"_

Ironically, the question was more directed towards himself than her. It was the main question that caused him to actually follow through with the kiss that surprised even him. It just seemed to happen, like Fate had taken up his drawstrings and pushed him forward towards the pink haired woman. Was it the fact that she herself provoked Fate through characterizing him as a mere _cat_? He was no kitten, and just like a lion, he attacked her with the kiss that surprised the two of them.

He wouldn't deny the fact that it was enjoyable, but he would not admit it either. He enjoyed provoking Sakura, but this was no longer provoking her—the game turned into a cold battlefield with no clear winner. Perhaps, it was best to take a small break from this game. Or possibly end this game of theirs with no winner. It was better off that way—ambiguous endings were always Madara's favorite. It allowed him to evaluate his own ending, and in his, he would have won this game of theirs and Sakura would be gone, distressed and irreparable. Stalemates in this case, were acceptable.

Maroon eyes closed as he exhaled into the plush white pillows of his mattress. Madara waited a few seconds before he reached towards a tiny button on the side of his bed and pressed it. It was only supposed to be used during dire and important situations so that the caretakers would see what the problem is. It was mainly in use for nurses, psychiatrists or other caretakers when their insane patient lost sight of reality, one that he lost long ago.

His door squeaked open gently, a tall woman with almond colored eyes walked in, a stud piercing sticking out under her lower lip and signature white flower was placed in her significant cobalt blue hair. "Madara-san," she murmured with an expressionless face.

"Konan," Madara grinned, still lying down on his mattress, shaggy head propped up on two pillows with both hands underneath. "You should begin the process of getting me out of this mad prison." He would not bother giving Konan details of this stalemate game he played with the salmon haired woman.

Konan raised an eyebrow at his unexpected request, but nodded, "I shall inform Pein about your demands. If I may ask, why the sudden change of heart to your stay here?"

"I overstepped my boundaries, and I'm bored." he answered plainly. He wouldn't deny that. Not only did he overstep Sakura's boundaries, but he also overstepped his own by a couple of centimeters. He had other worldly business to attend to other than play silly mind games with her. If she claimed that she grew tired of his _predictable_ game, then he grew tiresome of her as well. "I believe it is best that I 'recover' soon and get out early off on good behavior and having a clear mind. Not that difficult to do." He rambled.

"Your brother," she spoke, abruptly changing the topic. "He is back for a business trip and is visiting. He requests your presence soon before he sets off again for work."

"All the more reason to get out of this hellhole," a sigh escaped his lips. "I look forward to seeing Izuna again."

…

_ "Why do you always get into fights Izuna?"Madara grumbled, wiping the blood stains off of his slightly younger brother's cheek. They were only a few months apart. However, it seemed as if the two were fraternal twins. The two of them were rarely seen apart from each other. One was always causing the most mischief and the other would always follow suit. At school, Izuna would get into fights, while Madara would cheat and lie. "Mother will be angry if she sees the blood." _

_ "It's not mine." _

_ "I know," Madara grinned. He already had to squeeze out a lie from his lips towards the beaten child's angered mother who witnessed the fight unfold. "Do you think she really believed me when I told her that it was because her son made fun of our family?" _

_ The two of them looked into the distance to hear shrieks and yells as the mother walked on off with the beaten bloody child. Izuna gave a toothy grin, "It sounds like it. You've never gotten caught with a lie anyways, why doubt your words?" _

_ Izuna faced Madara once again, looking into his elder brother's maroon eyes as they narrowed slightly, "Because that lie was at least partially true… That boy may as well make fun of the Uchiha family." _

_ Izuna growled, "But it's _wrong_."_

_ Madara sighed, dropping his short arms to his sides and dusted off his cobalt blue PE shorts. "The Uchiha family is infamous—at least in this part of the country. They take advantage of many people in this district and are not favored by many who live in Konoha. It's not right, and you know it." _

_ "You speak as if you are not an Uchiha."_

_ "I am," Madara grinned slyly, "That is why I lie like one." _

_ Izuna flashed a grin back, "And that is why I fight like one." _

_ As the two brothers walked back into the private school that they attended, Madara could not help but analyze his previous statement. He glanced next to him, revealing Izuna's harmonic smile. Shifting his maroon eyes back front, he noticed just how different the two of them really were. Izuna was rough, but was also a devoted person despite the clan's infamous reputation in Konoha while he himself was quiet, but deceptive. The two were foils of each other it seems. Unlike Izuna, Madara did not _dislike_ the clan; however he would be lying if he claimed that he was just as devoted and proud as Izuna. _

_ Madara just simply did not care._

_ "Madara," Izuna nudged him, "Uncle wants us to babysit Sasuke-kun again. We should run back home." _

_ "Let's race." _

_ And so they both took off running, their backpacks hitting against their lower backs as it hung low and swayed oppositional of each step. The wind brushed back Madara's spiked hair as it did for Izuna's growing one. The two were equally matched. It was never much of a competition rather than it was who could keep up with each other. Panting breaths were heard as the two of them slowed down to a stop at the door steps of their home. Madara snapped his head up to tease Izuna before he was quickly interrupted by the door slamming shut in front of them. _

_ "Oh," Itachi murmured, looking up slightly at his two slightly older cousins. "I was just about to leave to look for you two to look after Sasuke-kun. He is asleep in his room right now." _

_ "Wait, what?" Izuna raised an eyebrow, "You're leaving? I thought we would be watching both of you." _

_ "I promised to be with Shisui today," Itachi replied monotonously, stepping forward passed the two older boys. "The door is unlocked. My mother and father will be back in approximately an hour and a half." _

_ The two brothers watched as Itachi's tiny back distanced from them, eventually disappearing as he turned the corner. Izuna faced Madara curiously and raised an eyebrow, "Itachi has been acting strange lately. He has been hanging out with Shisui more." _

_ "He must finally be hitting puberty along with Shisui and the two of them are probably talking about girls," Madara snickered, stepping into the quiet household and heading straight towards the kitchen while Izuna stepped upstairs to check on their sleeping baby cousin. _

_ The kitchen was vast. The pure white tiles felt cool under his bare feet and the black and gold marbled counter tops reflected his young face as he stepped towards the kitchen island where it was piled with baked cookies. He greedily snatched one off the china plates and took a bite. His face scrunched up and grudgingly swallowed—it was oatmeal raisin. Slyly slipping the half eaten cookie into the pile towards the bottom, he slipped the cover back over the plate. _

_ "Sasuke-kun is still asleep—Are those cookies?" Izuna's equally ruby eyes lit up in delight as he shoveled cookie after cookie into his mouth without tasting. _

_ Madara was going to say something, knowing that his younger brother was very much allergic to raisins, but held his breath as he saw Izuna's horrified face in realization. A slow smirk made its way onto his face as he watched his brother's face puff up slightly and hear him complaining of an itch crawling down his throat. _

…

"Shall I inform Izuna about your…'condition'?" Konan worded carefully, hands carefully laced together behind her back, looking and speaking professionally as usual.

Madara blinked, snapping his crimson eyes towards unafraid almond ones. "No, I'd like to surprise Izuna. Just make sure to pick me up after tending to my dear brother, will you?" He waved the obedient blue haired woman off before quickly adding, "Oh… And if Dr. Haruno asks about me or requests to see me, tell her I am being released off for good behavior and mental rehabilitation."

"Do you really think she would believe that?" she raised an eyebrow, "Haruno-san is a very intelligent—"

"She could care less," Madara shrugged.

Konan gave a curt nod before exiting the room at last. She had been automatically placed in this mental institution as a nurse-in-training after having Madara was transferred to the asylum in order to keep watch of his audacious actions. What surprised her most was how long he was so willing to stay in the institution and actually bothered to request the same salmon haired psychiatrist multiple times. Had the woman really been that entertaining? Or perhaps the Uchiha was planning something that the Akatsuki did not know of yet. No. It was mere coincidence that he landed in this particular institution. There was nothing of value that Haruno Sakura had that the Akatsuki did not. However, what contradicted this way of thinking were Madara's actions. It almost seemed like he wanted to stay because he was _interested in her_.

Impossible; the idea was preposterous and immediately eliminated off the list of Madara's motivations. Konan gave an exasperated sigh, readjusting the pale flower in her hair she brushed off these contradictory thoughts and moved on, choosing to forget ever figuring out the older Uchiha man. Itachi was already confusing, she had no time figuring out someone as complicated as Itachi, therefore she refused to put anymore thought upon Madara's actions and motivations.

Konan had come to terms with the fact that she would never understand the madman Madara. He was an enigma she wished to never comprehend.

…

The promises of break from work only lasted one day off to spend with the three men she grew up with: Kakashi, Naruto and Sasuke. They were surprised at her insistence on the surprise break and called in sick from their own jobs to spend the day with her. The break was quick, exhausting but a distraction nonetheless. It wasn't until she found herself staring at the younger Uchiha was when she realized she was still thinking about Madara and that it was inevitable to avoid this problem.

And so she was back in her office in the psychiatric ward of the asylum, deciding to rearrange everything in her office so that Madara would not sneak in again and mess up her things. There she went again—thinking about that damned madman. Sakura ran slender fingers through her cropped pink hair as she exhaled, pushing the button that reached intercom of the nurses' station. "Could one of you please bring in Uchiha Madara for his scheduled appointment? Thank you."

She began to mentally steel herself away from the piercing maroon eyes that dug into her being. He will _not_ intimidate her this time. So far, he had shown no signs of violence towards her, only intimidation and pressure. His only goal so far seemed to be just annoying her, and it was certainly working. She grabbed her observation notebook that she now kept with her wherever she went and began taking down the mandatory dates, time and reviews of what had previously been discussed last session. She left out further details of his actions.

"Dr. Haruno?" a seemingly familiar voice invaded Sakura's thoughts as tea green eyes looked up in surprise to find the fairly new intern nurse Konan standing at the open door. She noticed Madara was not peaking from the corner as he usually did. "I am sorry to interrupt, but Uchiha-san had requested to cancel today's appointment."

"Oh?" the black pen clicked three times in her hands.

"He has actually requested that these appointments will no longer be a necessity," almond brown eyes stared into green hues. Would girl catch onto Madara's plans?

"I think it would be my decision to see if he is fit to cancel these appointments," Sakura's gaze fell to her notebook again, beginning to draw small doodles off to the side of birds and ant hills. This did not sound like the competitive and unruly man that she knew. She knew and understood than _any_ Uchiha man would hate to lose, and so they rarely did. The only time she had beat an Uchiha was Sasuke when they were playing shogi. He would not talk to her for roughly a week after the humiliating loss.

Konan shook her head, expressionless eyes staring back as Sakura looked up once again and spoke, "That is the usual protocol for this institution, Dr. Haruno. However the Uchiha family has requested they release Madara. If he has shown good behavior within a week, then we are obligated to release him back to the custody of his family." This was only partially true; however he would not be released back to the Uchihas rather he would be released back to the Akatsuki.

"Impossible," Sakura clicked her tongue, uncrossing her legs and standing up to walk behind her desk, filing away her notebook in slight irritation. "Madara has claimed autonomy from the family. He is free to do as he wishes to without the rules of the family."

Almond eyes narrowed only slightly. Just how much did the foolish Uchiha tell Sakura? Fortunately, the blue haired intern was a skilled liar. "He still works for the Uchiha company. They still have power over him in regards to work. They claim his work replacement in the company is inept and they need him back."

"Fine."

Konan nearly jumped back. Was she really going to take the bait that easily? Sakura was an intelligent and clever woman, but she was not gullible. It was true that Madara still worked for the company; however he worked from home and rarely ever went to any of the meetings. If anything, Madara could quit working for the company and the higher branches would not notice, or they would care less. Regardless, Konan was not about to let Sakura change her insistent mind and quickly left the room to head back towards the nurse's station.

Something was up, and Sakura knew. It was a possibility that Konan had been given false information, or that she was lying herself. Leaning back against the mahogany desk, she let out a frustrated growl, pink tresses falling in front of her face as she looks down at her feet. Perhaps, she needed a break—a real break. Perhaps, she needed—

"Sakura-chan?" her door creaked open slightly to reveal familiar silvery gray hair sticking out in odd angles.

What was Kakashi doing here? Had they just not seen each other this month already? It was strange to see her friend and mentor again within the same month. That thought felt stranger to her. As if reading her thoughts, Kakashi full entered into the room to reveal his usual black scarf that covered a majority of his face, a white dress shirt with black business pants wrapped around with a leather belt. He took slow steps towards her, glancing around her office with his heterochromia eyes. "I assumed you were back at work already, so I felt like stopping by to say hello!" Kakashi grinned, his eyes crinkling amiably.

Sakura raised an eyebrow, "You've never done this before, so why now?"

A shrug was only given as he moved closer to Sakura who leaned unmoving against the desk. "I just felt like seeing my favorite student."

"We're not longer your students Kakashi, in fact you insisted we stopped calling you 'Kakashi-sensei' for the longest time." Her patience was wearing thin.

"Would you like to get dinner with me tonight, Sakura?"

Perhaps, this was the kind of break she needed to get away from work and especially from the crazed madman who now stood deathly still at the entrance of her closed door after listening in.

…

How _dare_ he? How dare that damned police officer snag away Sakura from his clutches? _Say no._ However, she said yes instead. _She said yes._ Why was he even so concerned? It was her life. But she was still playing this game with him, and she should have realized that they were playing their wits and minds as well as their souls and lives. That _foul_, _harrowing_ and _treacherous_ man she called her 'friend' was just a pawn. A mere pawn that he would easily eliminate and take from her until there would be nothing left on the game board but her.

Madara would _win_ and he was determined to make Sakura lose and _suffer_. The feeling of having her mind and soul twisted in his hands gave him a new wave of motivation. Once he had captured her mind and soul, he would claim her entire being. He could almost feel the silk soft skin underneath his fingertips, imagining her thin vulnerable neck under his merciless grip. However, instead of a fearful expression on her face, he pictured a mocking one. One that was free from bruises and cuts. Should she become another one of his experiments? Just like the previous man before his arrest? Or the other one where he bludgeoned the man into a plumped swelling plum? No, she would be an entirely different experiment that would require no physical harm. For now, he would take up her interest in the human psyche and beat her at her own game.

Fuck the stalemate in their game.

* * *

Again, I hope this isn't progressing too oddly for any of you. I greatly appreciate the people who take their precious time to actually review-even if it was to just tell me to update soon. I noticed that this fanfiction has been getting a lot of notifications that it's being added onto a person's favorites or alerts list. It's more than the amount of reviews I normally get, so I do hope that I'll see some new names in the reviews list!

So, thank you for favoriting and alerting, but also please review :) Any criticism is absolutely _lovely_.


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